Book Two-- COnfinement
by JasmineDragon818
Summary: Continuation of Book One: With the weight of her tribe's future on her shoulders, Katara is beginning to embrace the idea of her role as the Savior. But when fate intervenes, everything she has been trained to fight for obtains a whole new meaning. Zutara. Rated T for violence, "aangst" (see what I did there?), language, and eventual Zutaraness. Not your average Avatar world. Book2
1. Chapter One: Snow Poppies

**_Bet you guys thought I had abandoned this story. Nope, I just decided to take it in a new direction. Leave some empty spaces in the past book for this book to fill._**

 ** _If you're just tuning in, you can read the first book of this series "Book One—The Beginning of the End" in my stories. You don't have to though and it might even be better if you didn't just so that the plot lines can be revealed. It's only six chapters long and flip-flops between Zuko and Katara's POVs in their childhood. The last two chapters ended in a cliff-hanger._**

 ** _The last you saw of Zuko, he was challenged to an Agni Kai by his grandfather, Sozin. We all know how that ended up without having to fill in the blanks, but this book will anyway because I made a few changes from the actual series._**

 ** _In the very last chapter from Katara, Paku informed her that she was being trained for war. Since then, her mother has been taken from her in a Fire Nation raid and six years have passed._**

 ** _With that little side note, Book Two has now begun._**

 **Chapter One—Gone Tomorrow**

Some days, the sting of hurt Katara felt whenever she recalled her mother was dull and throbbing, stagnated from years of reliving the treacherous night she was taken. But other days the wound was piercing and fresh, tasting corrosive and bitter.

The latter was less common, but today it burned a hole in her throat.

When she had awoken, Katara had stared hard at herself in the mirror and, with fierce determination, swore upon death she wouldn't cry. Not this year. Not now. She had already cried enough tears the past two weeks, overwhelmed with news of her destiny, consumed with the burden of her predetermined fate. Fear laced with her newfound encumbrance mingled with the sadness that always weighed on her shoulders like a wet cloak this time of year: the anniversary of her mother's disappearance.

Katara had dressed warmly, as was necessary in the Watertribe, but her feverish stupor left her hands clammy and her neck damp with sweat. Adorned in a parka hanging to her knees, she had set out and trudged in the snow, three flowers clenched between her gloved fingers. The walk was a familiar one, as it had been a custom of hers for the past six years to leave snow poppies, her mother's favorite, on her tombstone.

Her mother had always loved snow poppies. For days she would sit and sketch them, stroke their petals, and sniff their sweet aroma until she was called away. She even called Katara her little Snow Poppy. They were common, as they were the only flowers that could survive the harsh winter climate, but to Katara's mother, they might as well have been the rarest plant to ever grow from the ground.

Katara refused to love them after the day she was taken. The smell alone made her feel sick to her stomach.

Memories of her mother, weaving in and out of recollections form the morning's activities, swarmed her mind as she caught sight of the spot from which her mother's stone stood. Her heart sank with every step her feet took, which had grown heavy in her boots.

Three steps more. Two more. One.

There it was.

The cold granite slab that represented so much to her was right below her, casting a short shadow on the snow. The carved words had accumulated so much snow in their crevices that Katara had to bend down and fish them out, wiping away the flecks of icy cotton. The phrases, unchanged, held the same gripping impact on her heart as they did the first time she read them:

KYA

Beloved Daughter, Wife, and Mother

MAY SHE REST PEACEFULLY WHEREVER SHE LIES

That last phrase dug deep in Katara. It embedded itself into her soul and plagued her mind daily.

"Wherever she lies."

Everyone reluctantly gave up the search for Kya after a few months of searching. She was no longer considered lost. She was now gone, taken, her soul forever merged with the moon (as the Watertribe believed). It made every night harder for Katara to stand, knowing that her mother was gazing down at her and reaching out a beam to caress her cheek as she slept.

The idea made fresh tears burn her eyes.

Katara looked hard at the flowers in her hand. Those despicable flowers that her mother had loved so dearly. She shakily drew one of them from her fist and studied it. The purple core faded into the ghostly white which chilled into a light blue at the tips of the petals, the flower itself frostbitten. The hard stem was naturally gray, but it somehow looked more alive than the brilliant greens of the Earth Kingdom daisies.

She lowered the poppy onto the stone, her back creaking as she stooped. "One from Dad. He misses you so much. He probably visited you late last night, but… he forgot the flowers." Her lips quivered into a miniscule smile. She plucked another from her hand and laid it down. "One from Sokka and Aang. Sokka is still as ambitious as ever. He's talking about making a ship you can sail underwater." She shook her head and allowed a small huff of a laugh.

"And Aang… well, you don't know him. He's an ambassador from the Air Nation. The few Airbenders who survived their raid have come here recently, looking for a merger and…" Image of the Avatar flashed in her mind—his blue arrow tattoo, his sweet smile, the blue and orange necklace he presented to her—and she clenched her eyes shut to block out the memories. "He's really nice, Mom. You'd like him. He's the Avatar, too, so I think it would make a lot of sense if I… if we…" Tears welled back up and she commanded them to recede.

"And one… one from me." Katara twirled the flower slowly in her hand. She had no more comments to say, so she quickly dropped it on the stone. She kneeled before it, the snow crunching beneath her knees, and she kissed the top of it while clutching the betrothal necklace that had once belonged to Kya. "I love you, Mom."

Katara stood, turned, and started running back toward the village, afraid of her own words. Emotions flashed in her just as distant silhouettes of mountains and snow dunes rushed by. A tear escaped down her cheek and she wiped it away angrily, furious with herself for not fulfilling her promise.

A sudden loss in footing through her into the pillows of ice. The instant stabbing shock of the cold bit her face. Her hood had been thrown back by the wind and tendrils of wind shimmied down her spine and made her fingers curl. A few more tears slid out behind her tightened eyelids, jumping at her sudden loss of control. Katara slowly lifted her head, shuddering. The wind was blowing the snow so hard you could barely see the black figure standing a great distance away.

Katara's eyes hazily focused on the shadowy profile. It stood silently, motionless. Her eyes stared at the figure. She couldn't make out any distinct details—a face, hair, clothing—as she scanned the observer. It was watching her.

A few moments passed before the silhouette turned and was soon blanketed in the fog.

The girl lay still in the snow, too afraid and disheveled to move. She shakily pushed herself up and stood, her knees knocking at the sudden weight. She stared off in the direction that the figure had stood and found nothing but mounds of snow, swept by the wind.

Was it possible she was so emotionally whacked out that she was imagining things?

With the little strength she had left, she ran to the village, spurred on by fear of her unknown onlooker. When she arrived in the safety of the village, she did not stop to acknowledge those who threw greetings to her as she walked by. She ignored the bows and odd looks she received as she blew past the villagers and heaved into her igloo. She didn't stop running until she arrived in her room, where she put her back against the wall and sank to the floor.

Panting rang out in the otherwise silent house. Katara gasped shakily for air. She pulled her hood back off her head and let her face be warmed by the house's steady heat. She presently peeled off her large parka and threw it on a hook in her room, letting it defrost. She sat in front of the mirror and gazed at herself.

Well, she was a mess.

Her hair, which she had pulled into a braid before she had left this morning, now resembled a frayed knot with strands poking out all around her head. She quickly let it flow down her shoulders. A pang of sadness resounded in her chest as she picked up her brush and gently pulled it through her hair, just as her mother did whenever she ran to her in a thunderstorm. It was soon smoothed to its original wavy texture. She pulled it back into a loose ponytail and stared at her face.

She looked just as she had this morning, except her cheeks were frostbitten and red— same nose, just like her mother's; same mocha colored skin; same wavy hair; even the same heart-shaped face and long eyelashes, all deriving from her mother. Her dark blue eyes and thin lips came from her father, but besides his subtle contributions she remained dangerously close in resemblance to her mother.

Though her image had recently become something completely different to everyone else, she touched that glass and reassured herself it was still her. She did not see a savior or a redeemer or anyone remotely noble as everyone had revealed her to be, but she did see herself and, in turn, her mother.

Katara wandered into the kitchen, which used to always smell deliciously of fish or sea prunes. The thought made her mouth water and her heart throb. She saw nothing was cooking, no toys were littered on the floor, no sound could be heard in the entire igloo besides the ones she induced. The home that normally made her feel so secure and welcome seemed foreign and empty. Loneliness seeped through her bones.

"Katara?"

Katara jumped at the sound of her name and she turned to see Aang standing in the doorway. He had changed into a blue parka similar to one Katara had seen Sokka wore and she suddenly missed the yellow and orange clothes he had worn when he first arrived. The pastels had contrasted so radically that it made him look comical, but it had definitely brightened every room he was in.

"Hello, Avatar Aang." Katara bowed in reverence.

"You don't have to be so formal, Katara. We know each other well enough to not have to do that whole thing." Aang gave her a lopsided grin. He took a step forward and gave a small hug. Katara blushed a little at burst of contact, but she returned it distantly.

"I was wondering if you were okay." The Avatar sat down on the small wicker chair near the fireplace, his eyes remaining fixed on Katara. "I asked one of the sentries if they had seen you today when the meeting let out and he said you charged into here like a moose-lion was after you."

The realization that people had seen her in her disheveled state, running through the streets like a madwoman, sunk in and she was immediately embarrassed. That's typically not an image people want to see, especially when that madwoman is supposed to be their Savior.

"I'm fine, I promise." Katara ran a hand through her hair.

"Good, good."

An awkward silence ensued. Aang looked at her intently and Katara politely stared back.

"…How are you?" Katara asked. " _That's it, Katara. Good. Good job._ " She thought, congratulating herself for her brilliance in keeping the conversation going.

"Good, alright." Aang nodded casually before falling back into silence. Katara steeled herself for another lengthy silence, but instead Aang spoke again. "Your necklace."

Great. He was bringing up his betrothal necklace again. "No, Aang, please, understand me. It's just that I want to get to know you a little more before I commit to anything like that. I mean, I know I don't have much choice, but—"

"Whoa, whoa." Aang held up his hands. "I wasn't talking about mine. I meant the one you always wear."

Katara's hand instinctively traveled up to where the necklace was normally secured, but instead held bare skin under her fingertips. Her stomach boiled in sudden panic as she raced to the bathroom and stared hard in the mirror.

The necklace was gone.

Her nails dug into the skin around her neck, searching for it in the folds of her collar, but nothing was there. She ran into her room and ripped up the bed, tossing sheets and pillows behind her. She made small frantic gasps and hope welled inside of her with each shift of the fabric, only to fall back in a crash of disappointed worry when it failed to reveal itself.

Perhaps it was in her parka? No.

Perhaps it fell off when she tripped in the snow? She knew she had put it on this morning.

Sickening worry flooded her. It was gone. The one thing tangibly left from her mother was gone. How could she not have noticed it wasn't around her neck when she was looking in the mirror? Maybe because it had become so naturally associated with her facial features that it seemed like it was a part of her.

"It's ok. We'll find it." Aang's voice surprised her for the second time that day. Katara looked up at him, the tears she had forced down earlier springing back up. Genuine concern glinted in his eyes and he placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. "I promise."

Katara nodded and hung her head.

Aang soon departed and she was left alone once again in the unearthly silence of the house. Hakoda and Sokka would return from the meeting in a little while and the sounds of the scuffling feet would once again fill the quiet, but none of it seemed to matter anymore. The one part of her mother she could touch and hold was gone.

Katara flopped onto her side on her bed and stared at the floor. Moisture filled her line of vision and soon all she could see were fuzzy outlines of her room. Her resolve broke and she released the tears. They ran unceasingly until she fell asleep.

Katara felt a hand on her cheek and slowly stirred from her slumber. Her dad's face came into view through her half-lidded eyes. Her vision was hazy from her abrupt consciousness, but she could tell from the way the room was invaded with darkness that it was late.

"Katara, honey, I'll be back in a little while, ok? Something has come up with the council and I need to meet with them." His deep voice invaded her mind and she slowly processed what he was saying. She managed a tiny smile and nodded before he kissed her forehead and headed out the door. She liked how he let her know what he was doing, even if it meant being woken up. In a way, it was like a reminder that he cared enough about her to let her known where he was going and when.

She swung her legs over the side of her bed and groggily stumbled to the bathroom. Maybe a nice quick bath would calm her nerves. She plugged the tub and began pulling water up out from the pipes that connected to their hot water supply below their igloo. Hot water began streaming into the tub. As it filled, Katara stripped off her clothes and went to unclip her necklace before the realization sunk into her stomach.

Oh. Right.

Katara glumly stepped into the tub and let the hot water sooth away her stress. These days were never easy, but this might have been the hardest one yet. She waterbended the steaming liquid around to distract her. The steam fogged up the mirror and made small beads of sweat dot her forehead.

After her soak, she dried herself off (with the help of her waterbending) and slipped into her pajamas. Now comfy and relatively peaceful, she glided herself under the covers of her bed.

The wind had stopped blowing and now a soft snow fell quietly outside. The creamy moon perched overhead guarded the village protectively, encouraging all the sleep soundly. The silence, before heartbreaking, made Katara sigh. A good night's rest would do her good.

 _Creek._

Katara's eyes snapped open. The sound came from the living room. She slowly shifted upward, resting on her elbows. She listened intently and was rewarded with eerie quiet. Was she imagining things again?

Katara snuggled back under her blankets when another creek was heard. Then a soft thud, followed by another, and yet another. Footsteps.

Katara slowly stood from the bed, careful not to make any noise. She tiptoed to the wall connecting her room and the living room. She kept her back to the wall and soundlessly bent a stream of water from the basin she kept on her nightstand into her hand.

Katara took a breath, and then quickly rounded the corner of the wall.

Nothing but darkness greeted her, softened by the lift of a candle flickering on the counter.

She sighed and turned and her eyes met a tall body. Her eyes widened as it took in a blue mask in the shape of a disfigured monster. She figure knocked her to the ground and towered over her.

"Who are you?!" Katara breathed, terrified.

"Someone you owe." The figure growled, raising a club. "Greatly."

All fell black.

 ** _Welcome to Book Two. Zutara stuff actually happens in this book. So what do you guys think? Are you happy I'm starting up again? XD Thank Agni for summer!_**

 **** ** _~Keep Calm, Leaf On_**


	2. Chapter Two-- Orange

Chapter Two: Orange

 ** _Chapter Two!_**

 ** _Enjoy!_**

Zuko adjusted the sack on his shoulder and huffed. This girl wasn't exactly petite.

He hauled the bag to his secret alcove where he had been hiding for a few days. He shivered against the midnight snow. Agni, curse this weather. How could people survive like this? The wind was always blowing and snow was always falling from the dim gray sky. At least in the Fire Nation it never sunk below 30 degrees, even in the coldest winter.

And where was the color in this place? Zuko was surrounded by seas of blue and gray, not a single bit of yellow or red to be seen. He had never thought he would miss orange so much, even if he did hate it.

Once safe in the confines of his snow dune, Zuko rubbed his hands together, breathed on his hands, and drew a small flame from his hand. The strained wisp of fire shuddered in the cold and threatened to blow out. Zuko grimaced. Another reason to hate this place.

The Firebender rubbed his hands together and removed his mask from his face, revealing his scorched face. It had been years ago, yet he could still feel the heat engulfing his face as he cried out for mercy.

 _"_ _Don't you dare touch my son that way!" Ozai had shouted out to Sozin, who was dragging Zuko by the back of the collar to the Hall of Agni, the arena in which all Agni Kais were fought._

 _When Sozin did not acknowledge his son's cries, Ozai threw a ball of fire directly in front of his father, forcing him to stop. Sozin turned, his eyes pinched together in anger._

 _"_ _Mind your manners, boy. You may be Firelord, but do not forget upon whose shoulders you built your empire." Sozin growled. He walked straight through the flames before him, parting them just around his feet. The end of his robes burned slightly before he blew them out._

 _"_ _And do not forget that you no longer hold my title, Sozin." Ozai yelled back. "Unhand my son!"_

 _Sozin's eyes gleamed. "You're so good to remind me. You ARE the Firelord. His outburst was not against me." Sozin smirked. "It is your court he was disgracing, not mine. Then as the law dictates, it is YOU who must deal the punishment, not I."_

 _Ozai's eyes widened, then snapped in fury. "I would never harm my son!"_

 _"_ _Harm him? It is his own arrogance that is harming him. You are simply following the law. And if you do not obey the law, what kind of Firelord would you be?"_

 _"_ _One that wouldn't murder thousands of lives as you have! One that wouldn't try to destroy the Avatar! One that wouldn't even think of hurting his own grandson, no matter what the law states!" Ozai's voice escalated with each sentence._

 _Sozin glowered at Ozai, then turned his gaze from him back to Zuko, who was quivering a few feet away. A moment of silence ensued. In a burst of sudden rage, Sozin charged for Zuko, his fist encased in fire._

 _Zuko shielded his eyes, awaiting the no-doubt fatal impact his grandfather's fiery hand would bring about. But when he did not feel anything for a moment, he opened his eyes and beheld his grandfather, frozen in his stride, as a whip of fire wrapped around his leg and made him scream._

 _"_ _Release me!" Sozin cried out in a strangled rage. The fire licked up his calf and bore into his flesh. Angry red welts sprung up like spring daisies. "N-now!"_

 _Ozai drew the whip closer, dragging his father to him. Sozin's cries of anguish rang throughout the great hall, where a steady flow of people had rushed in. He towered over the shaking old man and tightened the whip around his leg. "Stay away. From. My. Son!"_

 _Zuko watched in horror as Ozai flung Sozin into the air by the whip and smashed him into the nearest pillar. His grandfather came crashing down to the hard floor, making the ground beneath him crack from the impact. Bits of rubble from the pillar fell onto his limp body._

 _Zuko peered into Sozin's face. His eyes were glazed, his mouth open with a few specks of blood dribbling from a cut next to his mouth. His scorched leg was twisted backward, clearly broken. His chest rose and fell unevenly as he groped for breath._

 _Soon, his body fell motionless, his heart no longer beating, his eyes no longer blinking._

 _Zuko's eyes rose to meet his father, who was standing before him, fists clenched. His face was twisted in anger, but his eyes quivered with tears. His lips clenched into a straight line. His hands shook._

 _"_ _You… you killed him…" Zuko whispered._

Zuko winced as a particularly cold gust of wind huffed on the small fire in his hand and blew it out. He shook himself and created another, careful to shield it from the wind.

He glanced over at the sack that was resting motionlessly next to him. His heart hardened and a grimace returned to his face. All that would change. He may not be getting his grandfather back, but he could win his father back. His fingers grazed the edges of his burned cheek. The rough skin dipped and rose like mountain lines on the Firenation maps. Each crevice reminded him of the blow his father dealt him.

The Firebender looked back at the sack. This girl would be his salvation. His redemption. Sacrificing his small furnace in his hand, he dragged the sack closer to him and tugged the strings until the bag's flaps opened. He peeked inside.

There she was.

A tangled mess of hair hid her face. Dark blue clothing covered every part of her skin except her hands. He looked closer at them. They were strong, calloused from practice no doubt. Slender, but not small. Long and rough and, in an odd way, graceful.

In a moment of sheer curiosity, Zuko flipped the hair away from her face. There lay two closed eyes, shielded by long lashes. Mocha skin, just like that of her hands, covered her face. A small nose and small plump lips. Simple and beautiful.

Just not his type.

Zuko pulled the strings tighter so her face was once again hidden. He wished he hadn't looked. He didn't like the idea of his prize having a face. A chord was struck deep in his heart, but he shoved it down, replacing it with a reminder: this was his trophy to prove his worth. This was his evidence of a changed heart, the heart of a leader. A Firelord.

Zuko looked out over the uneven plains of white earth and saw the dim outlines of light. That was the village. They would be waking up soon. Soon, they would find that their precious Savior was no longer in her safe bed, no longer warm and snug in her home. She would be gone and their hope would be gone with her.

The Fire Prince stood, heaved the girl up onto his shoulder once again, and started to walk through the snow, trudging towards the ship.

Well, it wasn't really a ship. It was more of a larger-than-normal dinghy that miraculously could support a sail. It was a regular Watertribe fishing boat that he had managed to pilfer without anyone noticing.

Zuko ungracefully plopped his prize into the boat and climbed into it. The wind was conveniently blowing in the direction he wanted to go: away. He let the sail loose and drifted with the current, gliding silently into the glassy water.

The moon glimmered over the water as Zuko glared impatiently at the sail. This wasn't going nearly as fast as he had planned. Time was running out, he knew, until the Savior would wake up and he would not want to be around when she realized she was surrounded by water. His plan was to reach the Southern Air Temple by sunrise, but that definitely wasn't happening.

Zuko untied the bag and tied the Waterbender's wrists together, trying to avoid looking at her face. He didn't want a reminder of how human the Savior was. He looked at her a little longer. Well, she was unconscious and she had her hands tied together. It wouldn't hurt to give her some air… that is, if she was still breathing.

He checked her pulse. Thank Agni.

Zuko leaned against the front edge of the boat and studied her. "So you're what all the fuss is about, huh?" He raised an eyebrow and smiled grimly. "Funny how much they need you. You're just a kid." He shook his head and chuckled a little. "I almost feel bad about kidnapping you. You probably couldn't defeat a raid by yourself, anyway."

Realizing he was basically talking to himself, Zuko quieted and continued to watch her, eyebrows furrowed. How could someone who seemed so common be the hope of an entire nation? She had to be pretty powerful to stir up so much trouble.

"Strange. To be needed." He muttered.

 _"_ _You killed him." Zuko quivered. He took a step back from his father, who was still looming over the ex-Firelord's steaming body._

 _Ozai's face, once controlled by anger, softened into remorse. His mouth opened and closed, trying to decide whether to speak or not. He had killed him. His own father._

 _"_ _No." Ozai raised his eyes to his son. "You did."_

 _Zuko's eyes widened in shock as his father took a hard deliberate step towards him. His fists opened and closed and heat began to radiate from his skin. He hadn't seen anything like it._

 _"_ _You killed him! If you had just kept your mouth SHUT!" He sent a tendril of fire shooting for his chest, but Zuko jumped out of the way._

 _"_ _Father, stop!"_

 _"_ _Because of you, he's gone forever! He was my FATHER!" An X of pure heat erupted at him. Zuko slid under it, but was hit by a wave of humid air that sent him hurling back. A wall of pure fire sprung from the ground, separating the two benders. Zuko tremored in fear as Ozai stepped right through the flames, the fire not even chapping his skin._

 _"_ _Father, please!"_

 _"_ _Silence! If this is the only way to teach you, then so be it!"_

 _Zuko reared back and lifted his arm to shield his face as a ball of fire rocketed towards him. But it was too late. The last he was aware of before he blacked out was the intense gnawing pain of a thousand flames tearing the flesh off his face and the sound of his own screams._

Zuko bolted up in the boat, panting heavily.

He held his head, now damp with sweat and pounding like a battering ram. His heart slammed against his chest. It had been a long time since he had had a nightmare about that day.

He glanced at the Savior. She was stirring. A wall of hate was erected around his heart, shielding it from even the slightest bit of regret. He stood over her as her eyes struggled to open.

And once they did, he was captivated.

As deep and blue as the ocean itself, they sucked his soul into them. They were large and round and never-ending.

And he hated them.

Her vision focused and he watched her take in her surroundings and register her condition.

"W-who are you? Where are you taking me?" She weakly demanded.

"Quiet."

The Waterbender raised her head up. "Who are you? W-"

"I said quiet!" Zuko threw the bailing bucket at her head and she immediately blacked out again.

Zuko watched as the sun rose above the horizon. He breathed out a sigh.

Finally. Some orange.

 ** _What do you guys think so far? Let me know! Chapter three coming up soon._**

 ** _~Keep Calm, Leaf On_**


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